I care for her well-being. I mean, I spent 15 years with someone, and I feel like I’m following a guidebook on divorce.
My marriage ended in a mutual tone. She obviously didn’t love me in the same ways she used to, same for me as I used to for her, but she’s still a person, and we still spent 15 years together. Formative parts of our teenage lives were experienced together. It’s not even as-if there’s a void, it’s a gaping hole through to the other side.
I don’t know if she’s dead. I don’t know if she’s ok. I don’t know anything, and I’m afraid to ask. I cut off all contact, as was pretty much universally suggested and even I had a lot of ideas that I’d never really come away from it entirely unless I literally separated my life from her. It’s a divorce. It’s what you do, isn’t it?
I just want her to know it wasn’t so much by choice as it was a commonplace necessity, but… why would she care? I also get the sense that the second my name is seen on any note, it would just the thrown away, and am I even right to send one, and for what long-term purpose?
It’s just a waste of time, isn’t it? We should just move on, but… can I? 15 years. I’m 35 now. I should be spending my last five decent dating years finding someone new, but I’m stuck on her being ok. I don’t even have to be the one to find out, just someone tell me she’s ok.
She probably just hates me and never wants to hear from me anyway, and what good would it do? I’d know how she is, I guess, but she’d have another thread into my life and things could end up more complicated overall.
Every time this comes up in my head, I decide against it, but it keeps coming up, almost daily, like a self-induced torture. “Just don’t think about it!” Easy talk…
About four years before the divorce, her best friend got pregnant. It was my wife’s dream to have kids, and instead of accepting her best friend’s gift as a miracle for her, she let jealousy get the best of her and lashed out at nearly everyone we knew.
It changed my idea of who she was and how she was, and it changed her. Yeah, we tried nearly everything, but she just plain couldn’t have kids. I was tested multiple times, so was she, over and over again. Why us, why me, why, god, why.
Our marriage kind of hit this hopeless wall. We had a step on the stairs that we couldn’t reach. As a result of her actions during her friend’s pregnancy, a lot of bad shade got thrown her way online and towards me from her, for sticking up for her friend.
I know, but I can’t lie about that, even to her. It was complete and total bullshit for her to hold bad feelings against her best friend for the simple fact that my wife couldn’t get pregnant and she could and she never even once came close to any sort of apology or even a glitter of remorse.
While this is the original tidal wave that started everything, things degraded from there to us never even being intimate, to remembering the pregnancy attempt days as almost like having sex because it was mandatory, not due to choice and it even broke our attraction to each other.
Two people with 15 years of memories, half good, half regretful and no physical connection whatsoever due to the trauma and bad blood and no one budging an inch on their point of view, the only direction things had to go was down.
It sounds like couple’s therapy might have helped, but I wasn’t there so I can’t say for sure so I’ll just assume the relationship is truly over for the sake of my advice.
Firstly, talk to a therapist. Right now you are suffering tremendous emotional trauma. Just talking it out (kind of like you are here) will help a lot, and a therapist will help you process things. That’s the number 1 thing.
Secondly, just worry about you for now. Don’t feel the need to rush into a relationship because of some ticking clock. A new girl won’t heal the void inside you and it wouldn’t be fair to her to try.
I haven’t been in your shoes exactly, but I’ve carried trauma from a previous relationship into a new one and it didn’t end well. Not dramatically, but we both knew it was over years before I actually left. I contented myself with being alone forever until someone who cared pushed me into therapy 4 years later.